


Just A White Blood Cell

by citrusfriend



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Comfort fic, Dissociation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mental Breakdown, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Tsukishima, Trans Yamaguchi Tadashi, implied/referenced trauma, tsukki has a breakdown, yams is a supportive babe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 19:24:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14339361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusfriend/pseuds/citrusfriend
Summary: Tsukishima cried a lot more than people thought he did.





	Just A White Blood Cell

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing another fic where I project my problems and pretend someone is comforting me? It's more likely than you think
> 
> (also i get sorta graphic with the reference to self-harm so pls respect your triggers)
> 
> By the way, my reasoning for calling Yams 'Yamaguchi' is bc she hasn't chosen a new name yet. That's my HC for why Tsukishima doesn't use Yams' given name in canon so

    Tsukishima cried a lot more than people thought he did. Most people considered Yamaguchi to be the crybaby, she knew, but Tsukishima cried so much more than she did. It was never a light sob, either, never single rivulets or watered lashes. No, when Tsukishima cried, he _cried_. His whole body would be wracked with sobs and he would try to tear his hair from his skull and he would whimper and he would retch.

    It wasn’t as common as it used to be. Now, Yamaguchi sees him dissociate more than anything, but on days like today, he would cry and Yamaguchi was helpless. She cradled his head in her lap and squeezed his hands so he didn’t tear his skin off his scarred forearms. But there was nothing she could do to calm him, nothing she could do to get those horrible, grating cries to quiet.

    So she let him press his face into her thighs, let him shake and tremble, because he would get himself through this. She knew he would, but she still wished she could do something more. She wished she could quiet him, but more than anything, she wanted to get rid of the reason he was crying in the first place. She wanted to go back in time to stop him from being hurt, wanted to go back in time to protect him from the one who was _supposed_ to protect him. But she couldn’t.

    “I wanna die,” Tsukishima choked out, trying to tug his hands out of Yamaguchi’s, undoubtedly to claw at his skin. But Yamaguchi only tightened her grip. “God, just make it stop, I _hate_ this, let me fucking _die…!_ ”

    “I know, Tsukki,” she whispered. She tried to push her own tears back; if she didn’t, Tsukishima would feel even more guilty once he calmed down. She started tracing shapes on the back of his hand with her thumbs.

    “I hate this, go away, please, just _kill me!_ ” Tsukishima’s body shook harder than normal and he pulled his hands harder.

    Yamaguchi turned her head up to look at the ceiling instead. She hated it when Tsukki said that. She didn’t want to tell him it would all be okay; she didn’t know if it would. She could never understand just what he was feeling and she didn’t want to. Watching his deterioration from pure brightness of their childhood into _this_ was heart-wrenching enough. _This_ wasn't the growth or development every child experiences; this was survival.

    "I love you,” she told him. “I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”

    “Go _away._ ” This time, it was a whisper.

    The first few times Yamaguchi had witnessed Tsukishima breakdown, she had thought he was talking to her. Later, Tsukki had told her that he hadn’t been; during his breakdowns, it felt like a million intrusive thoughts were carving themselves into his brain. He didn’t know how to dismiss them when they all pounded into his head at once, so all he could do was tell them to leave.

    Yamaguchi had learned to differentiate his statements by now. She knew which ones were directed towards her (generally addressing how he’s feeling), which ones were said to the thoughts, and which he would ask of everything (always asking to die).

    “Please, please, I just want to die, I don’t want this, I-”

    “You’re not alone,” she interrupted him, voice almost angry. “I’m never leaving. You deserve to live.”

    Tsukishima curled farther into himself, legs pressed tightly into his chest now, but he stopped trying to pry his hands out of Yamaguchi’s.

    Neither of them said anything for a little while, just waiting for Tsukishima’s breakdown to run it’s course. Even though Yamaguchi had seen countless of these episodes, she would never grow used to the wet sobs, the trembling frame fighting to appear smaller, the hoarse voice. Tsukishima looked like a nightmare. But while Yamaguchi would never become used to this, she knew this wasn’t the worst it could get. She had walked into his room to see blood pouring from his arm as he carved a hole into his arm with his fingernails. She had told him what his own name was countless times when he had dissociated too much to remember. She had seen him dissociate and lose his entire personality for a month straight. She had seen his eyes suddenly go completely vacant, remembering something that would render him unable to function for hours. She had seen him incapable of moving at all when the trauma was too much to process and had to translate itself into a physical condition.

    She had seen it. She had been there. So when Tsukishima suddenly retched on her lap, body convulsing, and then sobbed harder once it had passed, Yamaguchi didn’t even flinch.

    “I’m here. I’m not going anyway, no matter what. You’ll get through this,” she murmured.

    And she would be. She wouldn’t go anywhere, because Tsukishima was worth this. He was worth the world. No matter what.

    “Please don’t leave me.”

    She moved one hand to his tangled bond hair and ran it through. “Never,” she said, voice soft, but firm. “ _Never.”_


End file.
